


Tell Me What Happened to the American Dream

by inpiniteu



Category: KARA (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fic Exchange, Gen, Unnideul 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 15:38:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4310838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inpiniteu/pseuds/inpiniteu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moving to Los Angeles with her best friend is Gyuri’s dream coming to life. Dreams, she will learn later, are sometimes better left untouched.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me What Happened to the American Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [921227](http://921227.livejournal.com) at livejournal, for [Unnideul Fic Exchange](http://unnideul.livejournal.com).
> 
> Thank you to [Jayden](http://slashedriver.livejournal.com), [Winds](http://tide-ms.livejournal.com) and [Jeni](http://namikaze-jkc.livejournal.com) for reading this over and your help and a special thank you to Rai and Yoon for letting me whine about this fic. All my love to El and Tiphaine and everyone on tlist really, for being so supportive. Title taken from MKTO “American Dream.”

It's time to leave, she thinks.

It's time, but it doesn't make it easier. 

It's time, and as she steps into the plane, she doesn’t look back at what she’s leaving behind her. Not even once.

It’s time.

 

-

 

People are always saying that everything is different in Los Angeles. It’s almost an universal truth that everything in the City of Angels is shiner, nicer, and overall better. 

Park Gyuri hopes, when she steps outside Los Angeles International Airport with only her dreams and the memorabilia of her past life in Seoul stocked in two suitcases, that they aren’t lying and something better is waiting for her. 

She has left everything that she has ever known behind, left the comfort of familiar places and faces to chase after what so many have wanted but only a few have achieved – a successful career as an actress. 

"There's an available taxi on your right," a soft voice points out and Gyuri takes a look at the short girl next to her. Her best friend is focused on buttoning her navy blue letterman jacket of her alma mater university up, a frown deeply set between her eyebrows. 

Gyuri figures she’s probably tired after a close to twelve hours flight and emotionally draining goodbyes to their families and friends. Han Seungyeon has never dealt well with planes and displays of emotions.

She’s tired, too. The excitement of starting anew and touching with the tips of her fingers the _American dream_ she has dreamed of for so long is enough to keep her energized, though. 

There is still so much to do, such as settling themselves into their new apartment and getting there into the first place or eating their first decent meal of the day, but she’s ready. She’s ready to tackle everything the world will throw at her if it means taking another step closer to her dream.

“Let’s go, Seungyeon-ah!” she suddenly chirps, dragging the other girl by the hand and her suitcases in the other. “We’re in LA, isn’t that completely awesome?”

“It is,” Seungyeon replies, a smile finally gracing her babyish facial features as she follows her friend towards the taxi direction. The unique suitcase she has brought with her is definitely easier to manage than Gyuri’s. “It’s a new life for the both of us.” 

A sound of glee escapes Gyuri’s lips. 

She grins back at her best friend who has come with her to attend the most prestigious school of medicine of California, the stars she wants to reach are already present in her eyes.

_Yes, it’s a new life._

 

-

 

“Let’s take a picture!” Gyuri suddenly exclaims as she readjusts her Minnie Mouse ears headband over her head. 

The sequined red bow matches well with her jet black hair and she winks at herself before turning away from the mirror of the Disney shop they’re shopping in, ignoring the look full of judgement that Seungyeon is throwing her. It’s how their friendship works, their opposite personalities contrasting but never clashing. “Come on, take your phone out and let’s take a selca!"

Seungyeon rolls her eyes but says nothing, instead taking her phone – a Samsung model that isn’t even sold anymore in Korea but still is _”one of the best-sellers in the USA”_ , she recalls the cashier saying – out of her backpack to open the camera application quickly. It’s no use asking Gyuri why they aren’t using hers instead. Seungyeon is already knows that her friend’s phone has been completely forgotten on their kitchen counter.

They had gotten them together a few days after their move, in a rather impromptu move as neither really had use for a phone in a country where they knew no one but each other, but Seungyeon figured it would come in handy sooner or later. It was always better to be prepared and she had been right. 

Taking pictures in Disneyland hadn’t exactly been what she had in mind upon purchasing the cell phones, though, and she shakes her head in fondness at her friend. 

Gyuri wraps an arm around the shorter girl's waist, dragging their bodies and heads closer, their cheeks being pressed against each others delicately. “Wait,” she gasps, seconds before Seungyeon can press on the button and she turns on the side, her arms reaching up to adjust the plush ears of the headband that the shorter girl is wearing. “There, much better. _Aigoo_ , you look so cute,” Gyuri almost coos, one of her hands reaching the other’s cheeks to pinch them. She bursts into a laugh at Seungyeon’s face, the less than impressed expression contrasting with the polka dot bow and fluffy ears on her head.

Seungyeon rolls her eyes, nudging her friend to get back in position again. “Let’s just take that picture, Gyuri-yah.” There’s no time to waste on a picture and no need to find the right angle or the right pose. Memories shouldn’t be staged and she nudges Gyuri a second time. “Come on, hurry.”

The countdown she has started to force Gyuri to stand still is interrupted by what seems to be a family of four taking a picture just beside them. Their cheers and laughs are so loud the two of them end up turning their heads to the side to see what’s happening. “They’re cute, aren’t they?” Gyuri suddenly exclaims and Seungyeon nods as they watch them take silly poses and leave the shop after a last picture of the two kids – a little girl who can’t be more than six or seven and her older brother – holding hands is taken. The little girl takes a last look over her shoulder upon exiting the store and waves shyly at them as their eyes meet. The two girls share a look before waving back with huge grins.

Seungyeon starts counting down again once the little girl can’t be seen anymore, the pink wings attached to her back swallowed by the sea of people walking across the main street of Disneyland. 

It’s about time they leave. 

The two girls share a look and a nod through the phone screen that is reflecting them and Seungyeon tiptoes to raise her arm higher, wrapping her free arm around Gyuri’s shoulder. 

“A picture is worth a thousand words” is a saying she has often heard from Gyuri. 

As Seungyeon takes a look at the picture she has just snapped and the funny faces they have made and she realizes that her friend might be right. 

No amount of words could have expressed the joy radiating on their faces and the happiness of being there and together better than twelve millions of pixels stocked on a cell phone.

Los Angeles is good to them. Seungyeon just hopes it stays that way.

 

-

 

Gyuri paces in the living room, throwing an umpteenth look at the black and hot pink plastic bracelet watch on her left wrist.

Seungyeon should arrive soon, she supposes. 

The UCLA campus is only twenty minutes away from the two-room apartment they have decided to rent together even before leaving Seoul. It had never been precised before that this was only on good days with close to no traffic.

Today isn’t a good day.

Not for the thousands of drivers trapped within the City of Angels' streets and not for Gyuri.

It had been an experience, being alone for the first time in the three weeks they have been in the States. She had always knew that it would happen, that Seungyeon would need to start attending classes at some point but she hadn't expected the burst of loneliness that had hit her suddenly when she had found herself waking up to a silent house. 

It is normal, though, she reassures herself. Bad days happen to everyone.

The jingle of keys outside the door freezes her on the spot momentarily and she watches as her friend enters their flat. Seungyeon’s shoulder-length hair is gathered in a messy bun and her reading glasses sliding off her nose. Gyuri finds her cute and she smiles.

Seungyeon drops her backpack on the wooden floor, the loud thump of the dozens of books Gyuri supposes are inside. Gyuri cringes. 

"Bad day?" she asks, not beating over the bush. She knows Seungyeon, has seen that face – corners of the mouth slightly tugged downwards and drooping eyes – enough times to know what it means.

Seungyeon hums and shrugs, the grey hoodie she's wearing falling off her shoulder. There's an air of resignation on her face. Gyuri swallows back the sigh that is threatening to slip past her lips, opting to softly smile instead.

"It's over now," she says as she draws her best friend into a hug, arms wrapped tight around her waist. "I felt lost," Seungyeon finally whispers after minutes of silence, her face buried against Gyuri's shoulder. 

Gyuri just squeezes her softly, lets her gather her words. The student takes a deep breath and then another one. 

She isn't sure what to do. She hasn't seen Seungyeon so vulnerable in a long time but they only can count on each other now. She just continues to embrace the other and whispers encouraging words in her ear. 

"It was just really different," Seungyeon adds, her fingers playing with a loose thread of Gyuri’s tank top. "No one talked to me, I couldn't understand some of the discussions they were having, the car refused to start thrice and—"

"I will make you tea," Gyuri interrupts her, releasing her hold on her to paddle towards the kitchen a few meters away. It's not really a kitchen – just a fridge, a two burners stove and a sink – but it's better than nothing. "So, the car you said?"

"Yeah," Seungyeon sighs, letting herself fall back down on the couch and grimacing as it squeaks under her weight. "It just didn't want to start, don't think we will keep it long anyway."

It was a cheap car, the cheapest they had found on Craigslist. They hadn't been curious about the low price and hadn't cared much either, too focused on getting a car without spending too much of the ten thousands dollars they had saved before moving out of Korea. 

"Well, luckily we won't have to keep it long," she pipes in, ignoring the curious look Seungyeon gives her as she continues, flipping her hair haughtily, "I will be the most famous actress of all time soon." 

The laugh that greets her ears makes her smile and she strikes a pose, biting on her bare lips and winking at her female companion. "Park Gyuri will buy you a car, _baby_."

"Oh God, stop it, you're embarrassing." Seungyeon cringes, but the bright grin on her lips betrays her. Gyuri indeed stop, still sticking her tongue out for good measure.

The whistle of the kettle breaks through the silence just as Seungyeon asks her about her day.Gyuri is relieved as she turns her back to her friend and busies herself with preparing their drinks.

Words about how she was unable to communicate with their elderly neighbor or how she spent the day waiting for calls that never came are burning her lips, but she licks them in an attempt to chase them away. Seungyeon doesn't have to know, doesn't have to be aware that something as simple as asking to borrow salt is out of reach for Gyuri. Those are her own burdens to carry.

"It was good."

Seungyeon flashes her a smile and a thumbs-up. "It’s gotten even better now since my day has been blessed by your beautiful smile." Gyuri jokes, trying to keep a straight face. She means it.

"Ew."

They both break into a laugh and Gyuri is sure of it, things will get better.

 

-

 

"Can you read a line of the script for us?" the man at the center of the table asks, eyeing her from head to toe critically.

The way his lips curves downwards in distaste is probably not a good sign but he doesn't say anything else and Gyuri nods. She steadies her hold on the papers, takes a breath and starts. 

Her eyes skim over the lines quickly, reading them for the umpteenth time that day. She recites them the best way she can, the best way she had learnt to in the acting classes she had taken in university. 

It's just a silly part in a morning soap opera, one minute and a half of screen time at best. Gyuri thinks of the better parts she could have gotten in a SBS or MBC drama by now with her acting degree from Konkuk or the connections she had. She blinks these thoughts away and ignores the bile burning her throat.

It's not Korea. it's Los Angeles and she can't allow herself to be picky about the casting offers she gets. She has to start somewhere.

The man, whom she guesses is the producer, raises a hand and she blinks a few times. Why is he stopping her already? What has she done wrong? She doesn’t understand.Her fingers unconsciously tear the piece of paper apart as she harshly bites on her lower lip to stop more words from coming out of her mouth. 

He doesn't lose time in dismissing her. "What are you even saying? Come back when that awful accent is fixed."

She simply nods. Her nails dig into the palms of her hands as the urge to bow to them almost takes over.

_It's not Korea. It's not Korea. It's not Korea._

Gyuri doesn't owe them anything, no respect and no smile. There's no need to follow customs of a culture they don't seem to even know anything about and don’t respect. She leaves the room without looking at them, not knowing if she's more upset at them or herself.

It comes to her as a flash, a bright revelation. She has to start somewhere. Directly at the bottom.In Korea, she was Park Gyuri, a woman of twenty-two, freshly graduated from a good rated university. She had a bright future awaiting her, with a feet already in the entertainment industry thanks to the minor parts in some weekend dramas she had scored for herself and impressive networking skills.

But there’s something she can’t ignore any longer — It's not Korea.

 

-

 

Gyuri isn't surprised when she opens the door and finds Seungyeon slumped on the couch. Her legs are tucked under her and a tube of french vanilla ice cream is in her hands. "Another bad day?" 

It has been five weeks since her classes have started and things haven't gotten better. They haven't gotten worse either, Gyuri said to her a few nights ago, and it was true. Things could be worse.

Tonight, though, she just wants to indulge into the mopping fest that is going on in their living room.

"Yeah. Today _sucked_." Gyuri lets out a chuckle at that word, only having learnt what it meant a few days ago. 

She nods and scoots closer to the couch, taking a seat next to her friend and laying her head on Seungyeon's shoulder. "It truly did."

They both watch the tv show Seungyeon had put on after that. Gyuri struggles to keep on with the plot, the bad acting she's subjected to not helping. She wonders how these kids could have been casted when they’re so bad at acting and she closes her eyes.

Seungyeon pokes her on her side a few minutes later and she holds the spoon towards her. One of her eyebrows raised in a questioning way. “Want to share, Gyuri?” 

The lack of honorifics still feels weird. Gyuri figures she’s not the only one feeling that way as she sees the grimace Seungyeon makes as the words roll off her tongue. They have been trying for weeks to blend more with the locals and to only use English.

It was a wise decision, they had declared. Staying in their bubble wouldn’t do them any good in the long term. It didn’t mean that it was easy. More often than not, they found themselves struggling with the urge to just slip into the comfort and familiarity of their mother tongue.

She nods, grabs the spoon and plunges it into the ice cream tube without hesitation. “Thank you, Seungyeon-ah. Vanilla was a good choice.” She doesn’t look at Seungyeon as she says that. Her Korean sounds almost awkward after not having been used in what seems forever. It’s not breaking their promise, she believes. No, it’s just a moment that they both need. She doesn’t want to listen, talk, think in English anymore. Today, she refuses to do so.

Seungyeon replies almost immediately and Gyuri bends her head to scoop some more ice cream, her long hair hiding her face and smile from view. It’s not breaking a promise if both parties don’t respect it. “But don’t eat everything, I still want some, okay?” 

“Okay. I will buy you another one if I finish it, though. Might even make _patbingsoo_ for you next time.” 

“Call,” Seungyeon says, lips curling into a smile that makes Gyuri forget about her day. “Ah, I really miss _home_.”

A life in the USA had always been source of dreams for the both of them and all they had talked during their university days.

What had been silly plans had slowly but steadily transformed into reality. It had been fun to see it happen, even during the hardest moments. The long weeks Seungyeon had spent waiting for a letter of admission that had lost itself in the mail or the double amount of shifts Gyuri had taken at the _Tous Les Jours_ café she had been working at to earn more money had been quickly forgotten when their plan had finalized itself. 

It had been fun, but today, Gyuri had realized it could also be tiring. 

The American dream can be more than the glamour and glitter that had blinded her until now.

She replies in an instant, as if her answer is evident (and maybe it is). “Me too.”

 

-

 

Weeks and months pass. New Year Eve comes knocking on their door before Gyuri even realizes it. 

It's easy to forget. The high temperatures and almost constant sunshine present over LA are so different from the cold and sometimes white Decembers she had gone through till now. It simply doesn’t feel like it’s December.

Christmas had been a small affair. Neither of them are Christian or had much money to spend on presents. Casting auditions haven't gotten better and she has been pulled apart so many times that she has grown numb to criticism. 

Some things, she has legitimately tried to fix – her accent, her control over the English language or her hair that she has cut to mid-back and dyed a rich chestnut color. Some things she has refused to ever change. She hadn’t hesitated a second to discard the plastic surgeons’ business cards she has been offered.

Even the American dream she has been dreaming about for so long doesn't justify the need to transform herself into someone she isn't. It's what her job is about, but when she wakes up and look at herself in the mirror, it's Park Gyuri she wants to see. 

Sticking to your convictions in a town where everyone is willing to step on you if it means getting closer to their dreams isn't simple. She will make it, though. She is certain of it. That's why she continues running from audition to audition, never picky about the roles or the shows she could be casted in. 

But today hasn’t been her lucky day and when she opens the door of her apartment, she just wants ice cream, a hot bath and Seungyeon. Always Seungyeon.

"Seungyeon?" she calls, her eyebrows furrowed together at the lack of light in the living room. 

Her best friend has started going out more now, has made friends with a few classmates of hers. It had taken her a few weeks but Seungyeon had finally adjusted into her new life, getting better both in her classes and at socializing. 

Gyuri is proud and happy for her. She’s perfectly aware of how the other girl had thrown away full rides in prestigious korean medical schools to try her luck abroad, and thus despite only getting a partial scholarship along with her acceptance letter to the David Geffen School of Medicine. 

Seungyeon had willingly followed Gyuri out of the country, had started to dream the same things as her after countless nights of lying in the same bed and reinventing the world. 

It’s a satisfaction that one of them is making it, albeit tonight, Seungyeon’s new found happiness leaves a bittersweet taste in Gyuri’s mouth. She’s spending the last day of the year lonely and away from all her loved ones, no matter how close or faraway they are living.

Misery makes the best company. Gyuri isn’t so sure about that.

But it’s alright, because the day is almost over. It’s alright, yes, because tomorrow is a new year, a better year, a successful year.

A year with her best friend by her side, too.

 

-

 

Communicating through post-its on the fridge isn’t ideal but it works for the both of them. _It’s life_ , Gyuri thinks, as she removes the hot pink sticky note from the fridge and puts it in her bag with a smile on her face.

It’s another morning greeting from Seungyeon. The med school student has already left an hour ago for her eight o'clock class. Her message is full of emoticons and well-wishes for the day and the five or six castings she has lined up for herself today and Gyuri can only smile as she reads it.

“Fighting,” she repeats, her finger tracing the word written in huge capital letters. 

She chuckles at herself as she grabs her small pad of post-its left on the kitchen counter and a ballpen to reply. Seungyeon won’t be able to see it until late afternoon, after her last class of the day – medical neuroscience as she has memorized – is done but it’s alright. 

It’s a short message that fits her, sweet and to the point, and she smiles as she sticks the bright yellow to the fridge door. 

_Seungyeonnie~ Hope you had a good day! Don’t study too much and don’t miss me too much! Fighting to you too! I love you._

 

-

“I got the role!” Gyuri bursts out upon entering their apartment, surprising Seungyeon. The student is sitting on the ground, dozens of books opened around her. 

Seungyeon blinks, stopping typing furiously on her laptop as she looks up at her friend who is grinning widely. “You did?”

“Yes!” Gyuri nods, watching her as Seungyeon removes her laptop from her lap and puts it on the ground before getting up. “I can’t believe it, it’s just a minor role in that show I talked to you about but I get to appear in seven episodes.”

Seungyeon wraps her arms around her. “Congratulations, Gyuri-yah.”

Gyuri hugs her back, jumping up and down in excitement and ignoring the protests that Seungyeon emits. The joy of finally succeeding, of having a producer notice her talent is enough to send her over the moon. 

She is on top of the world, a step closer from reaching the stars. Tonight, she feels confident enough to tackle everything that comes her way, confident enough to let out her feelings in the open. “Let’s go out, I’m treating you to dinner,” she proposes, cheeks slightly flushed. Maybe tonight will be the night.

“Okay. Let me just change, I'm not—" 

Gyuri takes a quick glance at her. _You look beautiful, even in sweatpants and hair hurriedly tied in a ponytail,_ she thinks as she shakes her head. "You look fine the way you are." 

Seungyeon leaves their apartment in grey sweatpants, navy UCLA hoodie and flip-flops.

She hasn't changed.

 

-

 

They're seated in the Italian restaurant they have found a few weeks after their arrival from Korea. It's a small restaurant owned by second-generation Italians and both girls have become regulars, fond of both the cuisine and the convivial ambiance of the place. 

"So, what's this role about?" Seungyeon asks, her fork digging into her plate of spaghetti carbonara that has just been served. 

"Oh, I'm playing that super smart girl who is tutoring the main character," Gyuri explains, not able to give more details about her part in that CW show teenagers are apparently raging about on social medias. She will only get her script for her first episode in a few days and only a few to little information has been disclosed to her. "Super smart and super hot," she adds, laughing. "That's the best kind of tutor!" 

Seungyeon clinks her glass with Gyuri's cocktail, looking her friend straight in the eyes.  
She chuckles as she takes a sip of her lemonade, having refused to order alcohol as she has classes the next day. "To you and your role full of Asian stereotypes! May you change history!"

Gyuri rolls her eyes, used to the sarcasm of her friend. She's aware that her cultural heritage might have been more of an advantage than her talent but for this role but still, she prefers holding onto the hope that this first role is the start of something. Greater projects might be awaiting her. "I will change the world, Seungyeon-yah. You won't ever believe it."

"Don't forget me when you're the most famous actress of the universe, okay." Seungyeon jokes, chewing on a mouthful of pasta. 

Gyuri smiles and throws her a look full of fondness. "I could never—" she starts before the shrill ringtone of Seungyeon's phone – g.o.d's _To Mother_ – interrupts her. 

Seungyeon bites on her lower lip, embarrassed, as she stands up to take the call. She comes back a few minutes later with an apologetic expression on her face. "I need to get back home." 

Gyuri looks at her in alarm. "What's happening?" she asks in Korean, the thought of something bad happening thousands of miles away enough to make her hands tremble. "Is it your parents?" she continues, hiding her hands under the table before Seungyeon can notice them shaking

"No," the other girl replies, "my parents are good."

Gyuri lets out a sigh of relief. Seungyeon's parents are almost reaching seventy and Gyuri knows her friend has always worried about them while attending Yonsei. This hasn't changed, especially not that they're living on opposite sides of the world. "That's a relief. What's going on, then? Do you need me to drive you at the airport?"

Seungyeon shakes her head, not looking at her. "I don't need to go back to Seoul."

“What?”

“I need to go home, back to our flat. One of my classmates called and I need to forward her some notes urgently. I’m sorry, Gyuri-yah.”

 _Home._ Home isn’t that stupid apartment, too cheap and too old to truly feel like theirs. Home isn’t that place or that town, it isn’t. Gyuri refuses it to be. 

“I’m sorry, too,” she rasps, aware that for being an actress, she’s probably being a lousy liar tonight but it’s okay, because she isn’t even sure Seungyeon has heard her. Her best friend is already halfway out of the restaurant, her plate of spaghetti barely touched.

Gyuri doesn’t feel hungry anymore but she stays seated, chewing on the veal meat of her _Saltimbocca_ absently. She can take her time finishing her plate. After all, she won’t come back here ever again.

 

-

 

Gyuri furrows her brows as she stares at the email her mother has sent her a few hours prior. It’s a rather basic email, one she has gotten dozens of times over the months she has been living in Los Angeles. This time, though, Gyuri doesn’t know how to reply to her mother.

How Seungyeon is doing is a question she doesn’t hold the answer of.

She has no idea what Seungyeon has been up to recently. They haven’t had a moment to talk since that night of _celebration_ almost eight weeks ago. The post-its they used to leave each other have turned from lovely messages written with care to barely legible scribbles written in haste, and only when there’s an important message to relay.

They’re both busy. Seungyeon is almost done with her first year of med school and she has been casted more and more after that minor role on the CW. 

Her career is finally going somewhere, slowly and steadily and she can’t let that opportunity slip through her fingers. Sacrifices have to be made. Gyuri is aware that the woman she considers her best friend might be one of them and she has to accept it. 

Some nights, sleep eludes her. She’s then left wide awake in her bed, wondering where things went wrong and if they are ever going to go back to how they were before and she ignores the voices in her head telling her that she wants _moremoremore_ than what Seungyeon had ever given her. 

Instead, she finds comfort in the fact that they’re just a step closer to their dreams and reassures herself by knowing that it’s just the both of them being too caught in the swirl of everyday life. 

Her fingers hover over the keyboard, the blank page still as empty as a few minutes ago. She sighs, casting a look at the empty page as if the answer to that question was written somewhere.

Type, erase. Type, erase. Type, erase.

She tries to reply, really does but the words don’t come. Park Gyuri isn’t a liar. 

Her mother never gets a reply.

 

-

 

The clock strikes midnight. Gyuri stops reading the script that is laying on her lap for a second as she glances on her left, at the wall of concrete that is separating her from her best friend. It’s not the only wall keeping them apart but, this one at least, she knows how to break if needed.

Almost as a sign of fate, the door of her room opens. She blinks the shock away as she watches Seungyeon taking place next to her on her single bed. It feels cramped, even more than usual in a room where there’s only enough space for a single bed and a dresser but Gyuri says nothing. She continues highlighting all her possible lines in the thick script she has gotten in the mail earlier that day. 

It’s an offer for a huge role, one to play the main character of a movie adapted from a young adult novel that is been on the New York Times best seller list for months. Gyuri knows it’s probably the opportunity of a lifetime and she’s excited at the prospect of it.

“What’s this?” Seungyeon asks timidly, her eyes fixed on her lap. Gyuri doesn’t say anything, puts the cap on the sharpie back and drops it on the bed. “It’s,” she hesitates, not knowing if she wants to share the news with Seungyeon. She might make a breakthrough in her career with that offer, might be leaving her for months to film in the Gobi desert, too but it isn’t the time to discuss it.

In the end, she doesn’t say anything. “It’s nothing, just another proposition for a role.” It’s not a lie, she says to herself as she ignores the raised eyebrow and the curious glance the other is throwing her.

“Oh, that’s good.”

Gyuri hums. “Yes.”

“Gyuri-yah,” Seungyeon whispers, reaching out to grasp her hand. “I—” she tries before pausing and clearing her throat to start again. “I hate this situation, I hate not knowing if you’re angry or if we’re just busy and I’m sorry— I’m so, so, _so_ sorry.” 

“Don’t cry,” Gyuri pleads, the tears pooling in Seungyeon’s eyes tugging on the strings of her heart. She has never wanted that, never wanted to make her cry. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

Seungyeon sobs. “I’m— I need you, Gyuri-ah.”

Something must have shifted in the air. Suddenly, Seungyeon’s face is so close to hers and Gyuri takes in a deep breath. She could kiss her if she wanted. She could kiss her and confess all the pent up feelings she has been dealing with since their university days, she could—

But she doesn’t. 

It’s a time for pardon, not confession and instead, as she gathers the younger one in her arms, Gyuri is sure of two things – one, her life isn’t complete without Han Seungyeon and two, she will confess soon.

 

-

 

The confession never happens. It can’t happen as she stumbles on a sight she would have wished to never see – her best friend making out with another girl on _their_ couch, in _their_ place.

Filming had been tough today, ending late into the night and she had just wanted to go home and sleep the day away. Maybe even get a hug from her best friend. 

_It’s funny_ , Gyuri thinks, how she can still be surprised that Seungyeon likes girls as she watches them breaking apart, ignoring the last kiss that girl initiates as if she wasn’t even there. 

She had always nurtured the thought that it was true, that Seungyeon could and would reciprocate her feelings but she hadn’t even thought once that maybe, she couldn’t be who Seungyeon wanted. It hurt a lot, hurt as nothing ever did before. 

“Gyuri-yah, wait!” Seungyeon yells, scrambling off her partner's lap and readjusting her sweatshirt before Gyuri has even time to run into her room. “It’s not what you think it is!” 

Gyuri scoffs and Seungyeon knows right at that instant that she has made a mistake. “What do I think Seungyeon? Enlighten me.” The words come out viciously. Gyuri wants to take them back as soon as they leave her mouth but she doesn’t. “Weren’t you kissing her? Weren’t you?”

“What if I was?” Seungyeon finally explodes, triggered by her friend’s attitude. Her eyes are wide with rage and Gyuri wants to kiss that anger away. She doesn’t. Seungyeon continues, her lips curling into an ugly sneer. “Yes, I was kissing Yoojin and yes, I liked it! What are you gonna do, uh?”

Gyuri doesn’t step back, doesn’t back down and instead, takes a look at the girl who’s sitting on the couch. The name triggers something inside her and Gyuri finally recognizes those doe eyes and that smile. It’s one of Seungyeon’s classmate, a nice but brazen Korean-American girl she has herself hang out a few times with under Seungyeon’s insistence. The girl doesn’t look ashamed, looks straight into her eyes with what seems to be a smirk on her lips and Gyuri curls her fingers in a fist.

“That’s what you think? That I’m fucking,” the gasp reasoning in the otherwise silent apartment doesn’t make her stop, the anger burning in her veins wanting to make her destroy and hurt, “upset because you’re kissing a _girl_? That’s what you think of me, Seungyeon?”

Usually, Seungyeon’s crestfallen expression would have been enough to make her drop it and apologize, her heart not able to take it. Today is different – she has no heart anymore to take care of.

“Gyuri-yah!” Seungyeon tries, searching Gyuri’s face. “Please— You know I didn’t mean to—“

What has Seungyeon mean to say? Gyuri doesn’t know anything, doesn’t know anymore. It’s better to end this now.

“Good night, Seungyeon.”

It’s when she closes the door to her room that she realizes she hasn’t used honorifics once. 

But then again, she’s not even sure she knows who Han Seungyeon is.

 

\- 

 

Crying over what you never had is useless but if only for tonight, she will indulge and let go of what was never truly hers in the first place.

If only for tonight, she will mourn a best friend and a crush, mourn a love that had never got the chance to bloom.

If only for tonight, she will mourn the role she has given up in the name of love and the dream she had but will never come true.

If only for tonight, she will say goodbye to everything that could have been hers but will never be.

 

-

 

Seungyeon drops the news a morning in late August. “I’m moving out.”

For all the times Gyuri has been surprised, this time she isn’t. She has seen it coming even. Rooming so far away from her campus had always been annoying and she had known Seungyeon hadn’t moved on campus to stay with her, to be a part of her dream.

But so many things have changed in a year and it’s time to accept them.

Gyuri shrugs. It doesn’t fool either of them but nothing is said. “Do you need help to move your stuff?”

“No, it’s okay. Yoojin will help.”

“I see.” Soggy cereals have never tasted so gross but Gyuri forces them down her throat. 

Seungyeon clears her throat, lingering over the threshold as if leaving now would mean leaving forever. It probably does. “I won’t be needing the car so I’m leaving it to you.”

Gyuri just nods and Seungyeon continues, undeterred. “Gyuri-yah, I’m— It will just be easier for me. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want things to change.”

Gyuri shakes her head, a sad smile on her lips. “They will. They already have.”

“I promise they won’t. Trust me.”

 _I can’t_ , she thinks.

“Okay,” she says.

 

-

 

Things change, despite their best efforts to make it work.

There were regular phone call and dozens of text messages between classes or filming at first, have communicated more in three months apart than in six living together.  
They even seemed to get closer despite being apart and maybe, Gyuri had hoped, calling her her best friend could make sense again. 

She had hoped but never dreamed, forever burned after falling on the ground from wanting to reach things too high for her. Gyuri had learnt. It was better to enjoy things while she had them and hold no expectation.

She had been right to do so. It avoids her the pain of another heartbreak as phone calls turn into voicemails that are never answered and daily texts turn into texts every other week. 

A minute in three weeks, that's all she's worth. The realization still hurts Gyuri more than she thought it would.

But she still calls, calls and calls again, in a desperate attempt to make it work if only for the sake of their beautiful memories. Years of friendship can't be turned into ashes and dust so easily.

She still tries, is still willing to make efforts. She would listen to endless conversations that are implicitly about Yoojin if Seungyeon asked for it, would be ready to continue letting them run even as the words she hears tear into what's left of her heart, seeking a relief that Seungyeon hasn’t ever allowed her.

Yoojin, Yoojin, _Yoojin_. Gyuri wants to hate her but she finds out that she can’t, not when she makes Seungyeon happy. Seungyeon deserves happiness, with or without Gyuri in her life. 

Back in Korea, Park Gyuri was Han Seungyeon's best friend. In Los Angeles, everything is different and as Seungyeon stops replying and never answers, never calls back anymore, she isn't surprised. 

Gyuri has been put on the edge, and is now standing on the thin line that has been drawn between holding on and letting go. 

She takes a step forward. 

Goodbye, Han Seungyeon.

 

-

 

Gyuri looks around her with curiosity, the bed she's sitting on creaking as she moves to readjusts her position. The mattress is uncomfortable but then again, she’s in a hospital, not a four-star hotel.

From her position, she can see the sun slowly rising. It has been a few hours since she has checked in, maybe three or four if she has to guess. It could have been longer, Gyuri doesn't really know. Hours and days are all the same for her, blurring together and always repeating. 

Life isn’t a dream anymore, just a circle she can’t figure how to get out of.

It's a busy night in the emergency room of the Ronald Reagan UCLA Medical Center. It was just another busy night at work too, one that had left her with a black eye and a myriad of bruises on her arms and a reason to visit a hospital for the first time in years. 

She hadn't wanted to but the police hadn't left her a choice. 

Waitressing had never been an easy job, not in this city and the bad joint she's working at. It has been four years, four long years of serving drinks and being overly flirty with disgusting customers but it still hasn't gotten easier, no matter how much she has tried to convince herself otherwise over the years.

Tonight had been particularly tough, brawls happening in the bar left and right. She had been caught in it without even trying, wouldn't have been able to avoid it even if she had tried to. 

She hadn’t. 

Getting hit had made her feel for the first time in years. It had brought her back on earth, her that had been stuck between dreams and reality. She is too much of a realist to dream again, too much of a dreamer for the pathetic reality she’s being stuck in.

A gasp can be heard from the threshold and she turns her head to look in that direction. 

Of course, it would happen. It was an awful plot in the awful movie that was her life. She had always knew it could happen, but had hoped it never would. 

"Park Gyuri?" 

She nods, too tired of her night and the woman in front of her to say anything else. 

"It has been a long time, Gyuri-yah," Seungyeon tries, stepping closer to her as she puts on latex gloves to examine her. It has been years since Gyuri has last heard Korean on another way than through the phone and it brings her to happier, better times. 

She closes her eyes, chasing the memories away. "It has." She finally retorts in English, because Korean is only for people she’s acquainted with and she doesn't know that woman, doesn't know who the Han Seungyeon who is examining her is.

"How have you been?" Seungyeon asks, writing a few things on her file. Gyuri doesn't know if it's just politeness or genuine concern, doesn't bother to find out either. It’s disconcerting, makes her want to gag. 

She just wants to leave, wants to forget that a door from her past has been opened.

A sigh escapes the intern's lips and Gyuri almost feels bad for not answering, for not trying. Almost. Childishly and only for a moment, she thinks that it’s her turn now. To not answer, to not try.

"You can go discharge whenever you feel ready," Seungyeon says, removing her gloves and throwing them in the bin. “It’s nothing bad but I will prescribe you a few painkillers.”

Seungyeon opens her mouth and Gyuri grips the edge of the bed, the cold metal bringing relief to her hot skin. What could— “It was nice to see you again, Gyuri-yah.”

That's when Gyuri sees it, the slightly pale mark on her ring finger. All the air leaves her lungs as if she had been punched in the guts. It was supposed to be over but it's clear as day now, it hadn't really been over.

The shattered fragments of her past dreams hadn’t been properly removed from her heart and her mind. They’re now cutting into her and she’s left breathing for air.

"Congrats," she chokes while she hops off the bed before she breaks down completely, walking past the one who was once the center of her universe, was worth all the stars and was all the dreams.

Gyuri doesn't even know why she's congratulating her about – her wedding or her achievements, maybe even both. Seungyeon has succeeded where she has failed. 

Han Seungyeon is a doctor and a wife and someone who has accomplished her dreams.

Park Gyuri has ruined hers to make someone else shine.

The dreams that they had shared, Seungyeon had made them a reality while Gyuri had given them up.

But upon leaving the center, Gyuri finally gets it.

It's not about understanding what happened to her American dream. It's about letting herself dream again.

She's ready now.

 

-

 

In another life, in another dream, Han Seungyeon could have been hers.

But the dream she had been holding onto all these years had never been _theirs_. 

Now, she's ready to find someone who will share her dreams, who will be ready to make sacrifices of her own.

As she steps in the plane, she feels liberated. _It is time._

She came to Los Angeles with two leather suitcases full of memorabilia, her dreams, a crush and a best friend.

Five years later, she leaves for Seoul with nothing but herself, decided to leave everything behind.

She's starting anew and it's alright.

Soon, she will be dreaming again.


End file.
